


Nothing Can Kill Me Like You Do

by Anonymous



Category: Destroyer (2018)
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fix-It, Forced Exhibitionism, Reader-Insert, Smut, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25079791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: One-shot. The reader is assigned to her first undercover case working with Chris to infiltrate Silas’s operation. She’s green and nervous as hell and, to complicate matters, irresistibly attracted to her new partner.
Relationships: Chris (Destroyer)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: Anonymous





	Nothing Can Kill Me Like You Do

**Author's Note:**

> I can't get Seb's hot, dangerous look in Destroyer out of my head. So I just feverishly wrote this little one-shot. If you enjoy it, I would love it if you left kudos or a comment! Thanks!!

The first time you kiss Chris you know you’re in trouble. 

“Kiss me.”

His tone is matter of fact, like it’s nothing at all and yet you sit across from him with your heart in your throat and a humiliating warmth creeping over your cheeks.

“What? Why?” you choke out–trying and failing to look away from his penetrating blue eyes. 

“So I know,” he says coolly. “I don’t wanna look surprised the first time it happens in public.”

You laugh nervously under your breath and shrug your shoulders like it’s no big deal for you either. After all, he’s right. This is part of the job. If you can’t handle it you’ll be a liability. His life is on the line just as much as yours. Once you’re undercover there can’t be any mistakes. You’ll be relying entirely on one another and for that to work there needs to be complete trust.

You lean forward with more confidence than you feel and cup the back of his neck in your hand, pressing your lips to his. You mean for it to be a short, chaste kiss but Chris immediately leans into it, parting his lips and pushing his tongue into your mouth. He takes your breath away and the nervous spark that ignites in your belly is anything but professional. You return the kiss, stroking his tongue with yours and carding your fingers through the short hairs at the back of his neck. His beard drags against your chin and a quiet, barely there moan forms on your lips. 

You finally pull away, blushing furiously and trying to catch your breath. Chris leans back in his seat regarding you with a calculating look. 

When you can’t take his quiet anymore you finally speak, sounding far too unsure of yourself.

“You think you can fake liking that?” you ask. Your voice is still breathless. _Fuck._

He looks thoughtful for a second and nods slowly, “Probably, yeah. You’re going to have to work on your reaction though…”

His words only worsen your nerves. You take a gulp of your beer and turn your eyes away from him.

—

You have time to meet once more before the assignment begins. Chris suggests someplace more private than a bar and you invite him to your house. When you answer the door you do a double take. He’s transformed. His brown hair is cropped short in a buzz cut and he’s trimmed his beard into a goatee. He’s wearing a jean jacket with cutoff sleeves and a wool collar and his t-shirt and jeans are old, lived-in and skin tight.

But none of that is what causes you to startle in shock at his appearance. No. It’s his eyes. They’re the same clear blue, but now they’re cold and hard. The look he gives you is the look of a man who’s committed violence and isn’t afraid to do it again. You take an involuntary step back.

And then he’s smiling at you and the ice melts from his gaze.

“You like the look?” he asks, doing a twirl on your doorstep for full effect.

“It’s…different,” you reply, “It’s good. You look the part.”

“Good,” he says. His eyes lock with yours and your stomach swoops downward. “Now we’ve just got to get you _acting_ the part.”

—

“Sit on my lap.”

Chris is lounging on your sofa with his legs spread before him. He pats his thigh invitingly and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from drooling at how much he turns you on like this. Your logical brain tells you this is a good thing. Use these feelings to solidify your cover. But your actual, soft, tender self balks at feeling genuine attraction for a man who is just playing a part.

When you don’t make any move to follow his request, Chris says your name in his low, drawling voice and continues, “These people party. There’s going to be drug use, violence, sex… You know all this. Silas treats his employees like his belongings. If you don’t want to end up in his bed then I suggest you get comfortable showing affection for me…I’ll make sure he knows you’re off limits, but I need something to work with.”

It’s not as if you don’t know the risks. You’ve convinced yourself that you can handle it. But Chris has all the experience here and you’re the rookie who’s feeling suddenly, awfully overwhelmed. You suck in a breath and step in between his legs, perching awkwardly on his thigh like a kid on Santa’s lap.

“Good,” he says on an exhale. His hands come up to your hips and he takes hold, shifting you until you’re straddling his lap. His rough palms graze your bare thighs where your shorts ride up. “Now, tell me your operative legend.”

His fingers dance over your skin, skimming underneath the hem of your shorts as he watches you expectantly. 

You start. Your name. Your birthplace. Places you’ve lived. Places you’ve worked. Family history. School. How you met Chris. All of it spoken in a thready voice as your partner’s hands explore your body. 

“Good,” he says and the praise warms your insides just as his touch is gradually heating everything else. His hands slide underneath your shirt, skirting up your ribs and tracing the underside of your bra. You gasp and he smirks, “Now. Kiss me.”

This time you don’t hesitate. You lean forward and your kiss is yearning and needy. You brush your tongue across his full lower lip and he opens his mouth, licking and biting into your lips as you squirm on his lap. You can feel the hard poke of his growing erection on the crotch of your shorts and– _is that where this is headed?_ It really shouldn’t happen but you’re already surrendering to the possibility when he breaks the kiss, leaning back and once more looking at you with that appraising gaze. He rubs his lips as he considers you.

“Okay,” he finally says. “I can work with this.”

—

Chris walks ahead of you, holding your hand and guiding you into Silas’s house. You school your features into bland curiosity but the vice grip you’re maintaining on Chris’s hand gives you away. He looks over his shoulder at you. His face is impassive, revealing nothing– _damn, he’s good at this_. But as he meets your eyes his fingers squeeze around yours and that gesture is enough to calm your nerves.

You sit in a leather love seat across from Silas and a tall, dark-haired man who’s introduced as Arturo. You plaster yourself to Chris’s side, draping an arm over his shoulders. You’re marooned, surrounded by dangerous enemies and stripped of your identity as a cop. Chris is like a lifeline in a roiling sea. His touch settles you and you pray to God that you’re not throwing him off his game.

He takes your hand and entwines your fingers together in his lap as he looks over at Silas.

“She’s very…needy,” he explains with a salacious grin, turning his head to you and raking greedy eyes over your body.

You pick up on the direction he’s headed and lean your head against his shoulder, pressing a long, wet kiss into his skin. 

Silas watches with an amused smile on his face but his voice is cold, “How fun for you. But…I’m looking for crew who can work independently if needed.”

“She’ll do what I tell her to,” Chris assures him, turning to you with a meaningful look. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

You look up at him through your lashes and put on a suggestive smile as you answer, “Yes, daddy.”

He smiles and pats your thigh, “Good girl.”

You sit up straighter and turn to meet Silas’s eyes, squaring your shoulders and clearing your mind of any lingering anxiety. Chris is here with you. You can do this.

“What did you have in mind, Silas?” you ask in a voice that doesn’t shake once.

—

“The ‘daddy’ thing…that was good,” Chris whispers later that night from beside you in bed. He’s shirtless, propped against the headboard and looking down at you curled up next to him.

“Yeah?” you say. “I wasn’t sure about it–”

“No, it was perfect. I don’t think Silas will mess with you now and he definitely doesn’t suspect anything…,” he laughs as he trails off.

You nod your head in silence, looking up into his eyes for a long moment before you slowly reach out to take his hand. 

“I was so scared,” you admit in a hushed whisper. You want to be strong and confident like he is, but…

“Me too,” Chris sighs, scrubbing his free hand over his face and knocking his head back against the headboard. “But…I think it went good. I think we’re in.”

Chris doesn’t mention it when you tuck yourself next to his body that night, falling asleep with your arm wrapped around his middle.

—

“You two are so fuckin’ hot,” Silas says with a laugh as he watches Chris casually sucking a hickey into the crook of your neck while Arturo and Petra lay out lines of coke on the coffee table in front of you. You’ve been with the crew for a few weeks at this point, slowly but surely gathering the evidence you’ll need to make an arrest.

“I wanna watch you,” Silas says and his tone is all command. 

You laugh like he’s just made a hilarious joke. It’s gotten easier for your to lose yourself in your character.

“I’m serious,” Silas says. His expression is open and he’s holding his palms out like he’s just made a friendly business proposal rather than asked to peep on you having sex.

“C’mon, Silas, fuck off,” Chris tries to laugh it off and he pulls you into his lap with a possessive scowl. “You know I don’t like to share.”

Silas stands and you tense for an instant in Chris’s arms before forcing yourself to relax against his chest. The gang leader stalks toward you with a smile like a knife’s edge and, before either of you can react, he pulls a handgun out of the back of his pants and thrusts it into Chris’s face.

“I just wanna watch, Chris,” he says in a mocking, wounded tone. “And I wasn’t asking.”

Chris’s hands rest on your hips, he clenches his fingers a fraction–a coded message of comfort. _I’m here with you. I’ve got you._

“Alright, alright! Jesus Christ, man! Lemme take a leak first…”

Chris is wearing the wire tonight. _Fuck._ Your heart is pounding in your chest as you watch him saunter to the bathroom, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. You hug your arms together and glance up at Silas, still looming over you with the gun held loosely at his side.

“Chris may be your daddy,” he sneers, “but I’m your fuckin’ boss.”

Petra and her possessive jealousy save you the trouble of answering. She slinks up behind Silas and wraps her arms around him, whining for attention. 

When Chris comes out of the bathroom he gives you a single nod. He must’ve stashed the wire somewhere inside. It gives you hives thinking about the possibility of someone finding it, but you can’t really worry about that right now because Chris is grabbing your hand with a sly smile and pulling you up off the couch. 

“C’mon, baby,” he says, loud enough for Silas to hear. “Let’s give him a good show.”

He leads you back to the bedroom where you’ve been crashing off and on since joining up with the gang. Silas follows behind you, prowling like a lioness stalking her dinner. A shiver runs down your spine imagining the man’s eyes tracking over your body, but you keep your gaze pointed forward at the back of Chris’s head.

As soon as you enter the room Chris has you pressed up against the wall, his hard, muscled body melding to yours as he mouths at your neck with a feral snarl. He shoves his hand between you and undoes the button of your pants, reaching inside to cup his palm between your legs.

_You’re really doing this. God, this is not how you wanted this…_

Your breath is coming out in ragged gusts and you can see Silas sitting in the chair in the corner, lazily palming himself through his pants. _Fuck._ Chris’s breath is hot on your skin as he kisses down your neck and his hand is slipping into your underwear. You shut your eyes with a trembling gasp as he touches you there for the first time.

“Hey,” his voice is in your ear, “Baby, stay with me. It’s me. It’s just you and me.”

You open your eyes and there he is. His clear blue irises fill your vision as he moves his hand against you, gentle but persistent. The breath rushes from your lungs and you arch against him, bringing your hands up to slide beneath the hem of his tank top and greedily running them over the lines of his muscular belly. He growls, pulling back to rip the shirt off over his head before working at his belt and pants. For a second you’re frozen against the wall, and then you follow suit. You try to block out the fact that Silas is sitting there watching as you hurriedly undress.

Chris pulls you over to the bed, pushing you onto your back before crawling after you. You can’t resist the urge to run your eyes over his naked body. This man who’s kissed you and held you and protected you. This man you’d die for and who would die for you. Your brain is a twisted web of lies and truths, a confluence of warring identities, but you know one thing for sure: you’ve fallen in love with him. And to have this intimacy be twisted for Silas’s satisfaction…you burn with the indignity of it.

“Shhh, baby. You’re gonna be a good girl for me, aren’t you?” Chris asks. The word choice is for Silas but the message remains. _Remember what we’re here to do._

Chris settles between your legs and you can feel the head of his cock bumping against your thigh. 

“Yes, _daddy_ ,” you answer in a cloying tone, writhing beneath him as if you’re impatient for him to fuck you. Chris reaches over to the nightstand and opens a drawer, pulling out a condom. You can tell from his jerky motions that he’s eager to get this over with. _Is it because Silas is here or is there really…is there really nothing on his side of this after all?_

He fists his dick and gives it a few rapid pumps before rolling on the condom and settling back between your thighs. He licks his hand and reaches down between you, grinding the heel of his palm into your clit as he strokes his fingers through your folds and inside of you. He’s good at this. Even with your fear and anxiety he has you wet in a matter of minutes and before you know it he’s removing his fingers and pressing his cock into your entrance. 

Again those startling blue eyes. He looks down at you as he thrusts inside. His gaze is unreadable and then it’s twisted in lust as his mouth falls open with a moan and he begins to shove against you in frenzied thrusts, chasing an orgasm as quickly as possible. In minutes he’s arching, straining, rigid against you as his dick pulses and twitches with his release. He collapses down on top of you, shielding our body from Silas’s eyes as the man gets up with a little sarcastic round of applause. 

“Fuck you very much, Silas,” Chris says with a growl as the man walks out, sealing the door behind him.

_“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Are you alright?”_

Chris slips out of you and tears the condom off, throwing it into the corner with a disgusting splat. He hovers over you, unsure if he should touch you to offer comfort or back off. 

You pull the sheet over your body and sit up, waving away his concern. 

“I’m fine…it’s…I’m okay,” you insist. And then you’re sobbing.

Chris drops down beside you on the bed and gathers you in his arms. You collapse into him with a muffled wail. You try to be quiet, not wanting to alert the others out in the living room, but your tears flow freely onto Chris’s chest. It’s not just this… _awful violation_. It’s everything. The fear, the lies, the anxiety, the drugs, the violence, the stress…it’s all so much.

“Shhh,” Chris coos in your ear, rocking you a little and dropping kisses into your hair. “It’s alright. You’re doing amazing, babe. You really are. And we’re so close. We’re so close and then you’ll never have to do anything like this again…”

You sit up with a sniffle, looking into his eyes as you reach up to hold his stubbled jaw in your hands. He goes still, his eyes serious as he waits for you to speak.

“I need to know, Chris,” you breathe, your voice impossibly soft. “I need to know if this is real…this–!”

And you lean forward and press your lips to his. It’s soft and sweet and nothing like the show you just performed for Silas. When you pull away you watch him, wide-eyed and breathless for his answer.

_“Is this…real?”_

He leaves you waiting for a single beat of tense silence and then he’s grabbing your face and kissing the breath out of your lungs. His soft, full lips close over yours and his tongue probes. It’s sensuous and demanding and comforting all at once. Outside in the living room the others are getting high and wasted on their own personal poisons. Well, if you have to pick a _poison_ …if you have to choose something to kill you…then you choose _him_. You’ll follow him into hell if he’ll just keep kissing you like this. You’ll live this deceitful half-life forever if it means you get to stay by his side. 

His fingers are tangled in your hair and you’re crying and panting and moaning against his lips. When he finally breaks the kiss his face is as open as you’ve ever seen it. His lips are pink and swollen from your kiss and his eyes gleam with unshed tears.

“This is real, baby,” he insists, his voice breaking with intensity. “This is the _only real thing_.”

—

A month later your fingers tremble as you set the pregnancy test down on the rim of the sink in the drugstore’s bathroom. Your phone vibrates with a call from Chris. And you finally, _finally_ have the hard evidence you need to take Silas down for good.

You look at yourself in the mirror. Dyed hair, too much make up, clothes that don’t belong to the real you. The two pink lines on the test stare up at you. Your hands come to rest on your belly and your lips curve up in a smile. 


End file.
